That "mother" word sent Monica's spine straighter than an at attention airman. As pissed as he was, he couldn't turn away from her when she was vulnerable—a rare event.
Behind her and away from prying eyes, Jack gripped the back of her chair, stroked a slow reassurance with one knuckle between her shoulder blades. She bristled under his touch, shot him a warning glare, but nothing more. If she spoke, the others would know. She had to accept his comfort.
"Because I did not want to leave my mother here alone," Yasmine continued. "Because I was a child then. Because life became... difficult for me after she died. Any number of reasons, none of which matter now. I am requesting asylum, and as the daughter of a former citizen of the United States, it is my understanding this request should be fairly simple to accommodate."
Max Keagan thumbed through a folder without looking up. "Why not just call one of your sisters?"
"I haven't been free to move since my mother and father died."
Monica's pain radiated from her until his finger burned. He didn't know what the hell was up with this Middle-Eastern mini-Monica in front of him, but if she hurt his wife, she'd be serving up that goat stew in prison.
Monica's brain echoed with Yasmine's words in this endless interview. Former citizen. Their mother. No longer alive.
Even a year after her mother's death, the loss stabbed. As long as her mother lived, there was hope of...what? Reconciliation? Some kind of inner peace over something she couldn't find her way through to forgiving?
She tried to remind herself this poised young woman wasn't the same spoiled brat who traveled to the States once a year during their mother's annual two-week treks to see her other daughters. Somehow those trips hurt worse than if they'd never seen her again. During the first year after their mother's defection, she'd woven tortured tales of how their mother couldn't return home. Wasn't allowed. A bedtime story that conversely frightened and sustained them...
Until their mother came to visit. And left again.
The next year, bringing a new baby girl with her. Again leaving of her own free will.
As a confused teenager, it had been easy to hate the spoiled brat their mother chose to keep with her. As an adult, Monica found her feelings for Yasmine more complex. But even with the tempering of years, they'd never been what anyone would deem as "close."
Yasmine pinned her with an accusatory glare. "Even if I had been allowed to call, I have no reason to trust that Monica would be willing to help me."
Monica let herself soak up Jack's soothing touch for two exhales before forging ahead. "Well, ouch, Yas, that stings worse than when you tried to rip out one of my earrings."
"I was four at the time. As I recall, Sydney had hold of the other earring."
Monica gasped. How could Yasmine be so cruel as to mention Sydney offhandedly?
Or did she not know about the kidnapping? Information didn't flow freely here.
Keagan snapped the file closed. "All a moot point now, anyway. We can't release her back into the community in case her request is valid."
And couldn't risk her sharing anything she may have seen or heard.
Yasmine's haughty jaw dropped open. "Everything is all right? I will be leaving for the United States?"
Keagan turned to the commanding officer. "Colonel?"
Placing his LMR on the corner of the desk, stone-faced Colonel Cullen blinked slowly, assessing. "There are State Department channels we need to process through. Beyond that, we don't have a disposable number of pilots on hand to ferry people back and forth. She'll have to wait until we've completed our mission here, and she'll be under house arrest until we go."
Yasmine's brown eyes flashed with fear, fast then gone. "Which means what exactly?''
"You're free to walk around the compound, but you may not leave."
"And I will be watched?"
Silence spoke louder than any affirmation.
"Thank you." Her chin dipped in a regal-princess nod at odds with her dowdy dress and faded red scarf. "Where will I sleep?''
Colonel Cullen's eyes snapped up, then away. "You can bunk with your sister."
"No!" Monica and Yasmine answered simultaneously.
Monica flushed. Silence returned, broken only by the voices building outside the foggy window beside the Colonel.